


pull me from the dark

by younoknowme93



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bittersweet, Character Death, M/M, heavily on the bitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 10:33:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10965447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/younoknowme93/pseuds/younoknowme93
Summary: this is heavily bittersweet, and angsty.  Severus thinks on his life as he lays on the shrieking shack floor the night of the war.





	pull me from the dark

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I have many stories that are incomplete and need to be finished up, but I also have about 30 stories in my computer that I've been writing on. I figured this one was about done and I'd go on and post it. I'm visiting family and my fiancé, so I do not have as much time to write, but with the little time I do have, I decided to finish up some of the oneshots.... Um... before ya'll read... just remember momma duck loves all of ya'll don't be to upset with her. Onward my ducklings.

There isn’t anything that I wouldn’t do for him.  I don’t say that lightly either.  I would kill for him.  I would die for him.  It isn’t that surprising then to find myself bleeding out on the shrieking shack floor.  I _would_ die for him after all. 

When did I decide that his life held more value than any other?  I certainly don’t feel this way because he’s the boy who lived.  It has nothing to do with that- aside from making my task harder that is.  If he were not the boy who lived, and instead just a regular boy, then keeping him safe would be so much easier.  The son of my first love and the son of my second love.  Lily was like air.  James.  He was fire.  The necessary warmth, but also the cause of all destruction that follows.  Yes.  I loved them both.  It was only fitting that they should find one another and produce a child.  A child that became my only goal. 

I fell in love with him as well. 

How could I not?  I am human after all.  He looks so much like the both of them.  If he weren’t the dark lord’s target.  If he weren’t the one cast to play this role.  I think I would have been more open with him.  Certainly, I would have never told him how deeply he affects me, but I would have made it a point to be someone that he could openly rely on.  I would do anything for him. 

I never saw him as the boy who lived- that was only a trivial fraction of all that he is.   His life that holds so much more meaning than even he understands.  His life that will grow and multiply with his own children.  And he will have that ability because of my sacrifice.

That’s what the headmaster always called it.  My sacrifice.  I have sacrificed nothing.  My life?  Too minuscule in the big picture.  He will be happy.  He will find someone to love him, and me?

I’ve only known love three times in my life.  Lily.  James.  Their son.  It has only been three times.  And it has never been reciprocated, but that’s enough for me. 

Lily was easy to love.  She was there, and she was beautiful.  She so effortlessly looked past all the ugliness in my life.  Then there was James.  Merlin did he detest me.  I of course had to return the sentiment.  But In a way, I loved having his attention.  Negative though as if may have been.  He always noticed me.  It was so easy to see his good point.  It was so easy to idolize him.  So very very different from me.  And then Harry.  So much like the both of them, and yet somehow all himself. 

I do not think it is possible to put oneself in danger for another and not grow to love that person.  Still.  I know who I am.

I can hear the battle going on.  Eyes too heavy to open.  But I _can_ hear the battle.  And then I hear the cheers, and I know that he is victorious.  And I know that I can rest easy.  My task is complete.  He will grow into a fine adult, and he will grow old with some woman that he loves.  And he will have children that will grow into adults.  And his children will visit him often.  He will have a long life.  He will have a happy life.

I can sleep.

I can sleep.

And I do for what feels like moments.  But then I hear his voice.

“Professor.  Please.  Wake up.”  My mind feels heavy and muddled.  “Please wake up.”  There isn’t anything that I wouldn’t do for him.  So I force my eyes to open.  The pain is so bad.  I just want to sleep.  But I force my eyes to open even though all I want to do is sleep.  I force my eyes to open because he’s asked me too.  And I would do anything for him.  “Professor.”  The voice pulls me again. 

How should I greet him?  The war is over, but should I keep the pretenses.  He has my memories.  I don’t know the full extent that he knows.  Thankfully- or maybe not.  When I try to speak, no sound comes out.  I bring my fingers to my throat instinctively and I feel coarse scabbed over skin.  I can’t speak.  I can’t make any sounds.

But my eyes are at least open.  And that seems enough for the expectant green waiting for me.

I’m in a hospital.  In a bed.  Wearing one of those embarrassing gowns.

“Oh thank Merlin.  I was so worried that you would never wake up.”  I try to not think too hard on that statement.  “The war is over.  It’s been over.  For a couple months now.”  Again, I try to not think too hard on that statement.  Over?  No war is ever over.  It can’t be.  It’s too good.  Soon, I’ll wake up.  And it’ll just be that I was under the cruciatus curse for so long that I fell into an unrealistic dream.  He’s smiling, but I don’t return the sentiment.  “Sir.  I’m sorry.  I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I can stop myself.”  He smiles awkwardly and then his arms are around me.  Tightly he’s holding me against him.  He smells like sunshine. 

This really is a dream.

“I’m just so happy that you are alive.”  It’s much easier to return the embrace than I thought it would be.  Surely if he knew, then he would not touch me let alone embrace me.  He can’t possibly know how devoted I am to him.  To only him.

That was always where my loyalty lay.  Not with Voldemort.  Not Dumbledore.  Harry.  Always Harry.

He pulls away and I have to remind myself that he isn’t mine.  I have to remind myself who I am.  A sour old man that has never had anyone desire him.  He smiles at me.  And it hurts. 

“Sorry.  I hope I didn’t make you too upset hugging you like that.  I just really needed a hug.”  His cheeks are red.  His messy hair is falling in his face.  I want to talk.  I want to assure him that I am not upset.  Maybe even tell him that I really needed a hug too.  But I can’t. 

“I just love you is all.”  He says matter of fact.  His mouth hangs slightly open.  “I didn’t mean to say that!”  When I don’t say anything…. Because I can’t, he digs a deeper hole.  “I mean, I meant it, but I didn’t mean to say that now.”  He hides his face in his hands.  “I’m only making this worse.  Sir.  I’ve already screwed this up, so I’m just going to dive in blindly.”  Like he’s always prone to do.  “I want to take care of you like you took care of me.  I know now that you were always protecting me.  I want to protect you.  I want to be someone that can keep you safe.”

His fingers are shaking nervously.  And I didn’t realize before, but I’m staring wide-eyed at him. 

“I know you don’t hate me, and I could take care of you.  I don’t care if people think you are a death eater.  I know the truth, and you know the truth.  That’s enough.  I’m sure eventually, you’ll get your voice back.  I’m sure of it.  And if you don’t, then we can both learn sign language.  So that way you can still tell me that I’m an overly hopeful brat.”  He’s smiling brokenly.  “Just please.  Don’t leave me.  I know I may seem impetuous, but I want us to live together.  Please.”  I’m laughing though no sound comes out.  He wants me to stay with him.  What alcohol induced fantasy is this.  “You don’t have to acknowledge that I love you.  I won’t make that your problem.  I can be adult about it.  I won’t say anything to make you uncomfortable if you do decide to live with me.  I won’t pressure you or anything like that.  I just.  Want you.”  His head is bowed, but I can tell from the slight tremors that he’s being sincere.

I touch his shoulder and he looks up at me.  I’m actually thankful that I can’t speak right now.  I think I might would fall into old habits and screw this up.  I take his hand and place it to my racing chest while also placing my hand on his chest.  He blinks several times.

“Professor, are you okay?!  Your heart is beating really fast.  Do I need to get a nurse?”  He tries to pull away, but I stop him.  “Sir?”  This is much more embarrassing than I anticipated.  I take his hand and kiss the palm.  “Professor.  Please.  Don’t do that.”  Ah youth.  It’s easy to notice his obvious arousal.  Is that really all it takes.  “I told you that I could be adult about this.  There is no need to tease me!”  I kiss his palm again.  “Sir?  Are you telling me, what I hope you are telling me.”  I can feel my lips turn up into a rare smile.  Tears are freely falling and for once in my life, I know I don’t have to hide them.  His lips connect to mine, and when he pulls away he’s smiling too.  I’m happy. 

_I’m happy_.

 

*****************************************************************************************

 

“Professor!  Please.  Professor.  Wake up.”  No matter how hard I shake him he will not open his eyes.  Deep down I know he never will.

“Harry.”  Hermione’s hand is on my shoulder.  “That’s enough.  He’s not going to wake up.”

“Why Hermione!  Just when I find out that he’s always protected me.  Why did he have to die!”

“Harry, because of him you were able to defeat Voldemort.  He… was a good man.  But look at him Harry.  He looks peaceful.”

She right.  He does look peaceful.  This is the first time I’ve ever seen this often cruel man look… _Happy._  


 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Momma duck sorry! Momma duck loves all of her sweet ducklings. I depressed myself a bit with this story.


End file.
